Page 23 of A LIttle Christmas: Samm
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The next morning, the urge to call in sick is almost overwhelming. Samuel doesn’t feel great after all the alcohol, but it’s mostly emotional nausea that made him want to stay home. The only way he could've been more sexually aggressive towards his boss was if he bent over and presented his hole to the man with a bull's-eye marked out in lube, right in the center.
At least he didn’t do that.
Samuel got into the office 20 minutes late, but fortunately, it didn't matter as Bryan had meetings all morning and was out of the office. Lex (aka the ballbuster of his mediocre dreams) had sent him a message this morning asking him what time he would be coming over. He also said he expected Samuel to be cleaned, plugged, and ready, which was a much more exciting prospect before the evening with Bryan.
Now he can barely stand the idea of meeting up with Lex. Letting some stranger have him when he’s kissed the man of his dreams and had his arms wrapped around him is intolerable.
It's ridiculous, he can't get his hopes up. His boss never even looked at him as a sexual creature before two days ago. And he hadn’t contemplated his own gayness until twelve hours ago.
So he’s doing his best to have no expectations. Which means he needs to respond to Lex and try to go back to being the desperately needy boy willing to accept anything so long as he was promised a few hot meals, cuddling, and tucking in at bedtime with a stuffed animal.
He doesn’t respond to Lex. Maybe after lunch?
By 11:30 AM, Samuel is ready to lose his damn mind. He gives up waiting for his boss to appear and goes for lunch with a friend from accounting. A straight friend who is happy to have a gay friend to gossip with, and who is quite good at carrying on a one-sided conversation when the need arises.
Samuel has nothing to say, especially since no one at work knows about his kinky lifestyle, and they certainly don’t know he’s in love with his boss.
He makes it back to the office at one, dragging his feet and running an errand that probably should have waited until his own personal time, but screw it.
Bryan’s office door is open, and the lights are on when he returns. He stops in front of his own desk, taking his coat and scarf off quietly, trying not to attract any attention. He sits down in his chair, and it squeaks.
“Samuel?” Bryan says his voice loud enough to carry out to his desk.
“Shit,” he whispers to himself and pulls out a mirror to check his appearance. Hair is in place, no food in his teeth, no bats in the cave, and a piece of gum because why the hell not?
He leans into Bryan’s office, keeping the doorframe as protection. “You rang?”
“Come in. Close the door. And please lock it, I don’t want to be disturbed for this conversation,” he says. He glances atSamuel and then looks away. The man doesn’t even smile. Samuel knows last night wasn’t a fever dream, but he’d expected some acknowledgment of what had happened.
This isn’t good.
Samuel’s stomach is in knots, and he keeps his gaze trained on the carpet as he goes closer. He sits down in a chair, back straight and palms sweating. “I don’t have paper or my laptop, should I go get them?”And maybe I just run away, he thinks desperately.
“Don’t worry about that. How do you feel after last night?”
“Uh. Fine. Thanks.”
“Any regrets?” Bryan asks.
Samuel has to look up now. “I don’t know,” he shrugs, trying to read his boss’ face and still getting nothing. “Should I have regrets? Do you have regrets?”
His face relaxes, a hint of a smile flashing across his lips. They look soft. Not overly large or small, just good lips that would be nice to kiss, and okay, yeah, Samuel could definitely imagine sucking on his boss’s bottom lip if he was given the chance.
“I suppose I regret that it took me as long as it did to think about my life and what I want.”
“Oh. Is that right?” Samuel asks and shifts on the chair. He can’t get too excited because that could mean anything. “Should I help you set up a Grindr profile?” He forces a laugh.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll make my own arrangements.”
That hits like an emotional bomb. “Great. Well, I’m happy to hear it,” he says, insincere as hell and not sure he’s hiding it well. “No harm, no foul, right? I know I asked for Monday off, but if I could get the rest of the afternoon, too, that would be really appreciated,” he says, hoping he can keep up a mask of intrigued indifference. As if his heart isn’t breaking because Mr. Demarco is going to explore Grindr rather than Samuel.
Mr. Demarco blinks at him. Thick dark lashes sweeping down and then back up again. Is he looking at Samuel’s mouth?
“If I gave you the afternoon off, where would you go?” he asks, voice silky.
“You know where I’m going.”
